


You Get What You Need

by sonicshambles



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicshambles/pseuds/sonicshambles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara needs help getting the Jane Austen biography she wants to read off the top shelf. Twelve arrives on the scene and one epic fight and shop banning later they meet again in another bookshop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Get What You Need

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of the prompts in this post: http://lizdexia.tumblr.com/post/117050708072/aus-for-when-your-otp-are-both-assholes

Armed with a list of great beach reads composed after much careful internet research and asking friends who went on more beach vacations than she did, Clara found herself in the biography section of the bookshop. None of the books on her list were in this section. Five books on the list had already been found and quickly discarded after reading their back covers. Clara didn't think of herself as a picky reader but this shopping trip led her to believe she might not be a beach read person. Or that beach read was a stupid term and any read should count as a beach read.

Clara wandered over to that section without a particular biography in mind. She generally speaking liked biographies and needed to look at books she liked for awhile. She loved reading about the lives others lived in places or times far outside her own. She happily browsed the shelves for several minutes in an attempt to narrow it down to what kind of person she wanted to read about. _The Brontes, Dickens, Plath, Tolstoy_. As her eyes were continuously drawn to those names and others like them it became clear she was in an author type of mood. 

"So who do I want to read about most? Oh!"

As soon as she asked the question aloud she knew the answer. Just the other week she finished her annual reread of Jane Austen's complete novels. Among the images of balls and carriage rides and star-crossed lovers that danced through her mind as she fell asleep that night the thought occurred to her that she wanted to know more about Austen's life.

"Austen, Austen, Austen, there has to be something, come on, Austen, dammit!"

Her travel up from the T's to the A's led to the annoying discovery that the A's were on the top shelf. On her tiptoes with her arms stretched up as high as they went Clara still wasn't able to reach. Her next attempt involved stepping on to the bottom shelf before stretching but that still wasn't enough. She tried jumping but gave up after three failed attempts or more accurately after the third attempt almost sent her flying backwards into the table behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted one of those step stools with the big sign on them marking them for employee use only. She got within a foot of it before an employee rushed past her, scooped it up, and didn't stop to see if she needed help with anything. 

Clara marched back to the biography section determined to figure out some solution to her problem. She returned to a section now occupied by a tall gentleman who easily grabbed a book from the top shelf as if to purposely rub in her face that bookshops had clear height preferences for their customers. It briefly occurred to her to ask him to get the books for her but Clara was in that zone that only the most stubborn of stubborn people get. It was that special place where no one was allowed to help you because this was your mission. It was her destiny and hers alone to reach that hallowed top shelf and pluck from it the three different biographies on Jane Austen. Clara resumed Plan Jump with no acknowledgement of the man even though he stood a couple feet to her right.

She managed two jumps before the man turned to her with a look of complete bafflement mixed with a bit of disdain. 

"For God's sake. What are you trying to get?"

"I'm handling this."

With the next jump her hands brushed the bottom of the books on the top shelf and she felt the imminent victory. 

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." 

Of course those words spelled her downfall and just as her hand finally pulled at one of the books she wanted her feet slipped and she tumbled to the floor just barely missing the table. 

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

With that the man shrugged and turned to the shelf on their right. Clara helped herself up with a pointed stare at his back and then turned her stare to the top shelf which seemed to be even taller and further away than before. 

Clara cleared her throat.

"Does that offer still stand?"

He turned back towards her and raised a stern eyebrow. Clara noticed he wore dark sunglasses even though they were indoors. He made his way to her side and looked up. 

"I'm dying to know what book is so important you risked a concussion for it."

"I don't know which exact one yet. Could you hand me all three of the Jane Austen biographies?"

He snorted and lowered his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose in order to stare down at her.

"Jane Austen biographies? Are you serious?"

Clara's mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide at this insult to her taste.

"Yes? I love Jane Austen, well I mean I love her novels. I want to read more about her."

"Considering from what little I remember of those damn movies people are always making based off them, all her characters did exactly the same thing all of the time and none of it was very exciting. There's a plan for you. Why don't you watch one of those instead of reading something that will probably manage the amazing feat of being more boring than one of her novels."

"How dare you! First of all, I've already seen most of the movies based on her novels and second of all, actually no, first of all is actually that her novels are not boring. They are wonderful. She wrote some of the most beautiful passages I've ever read and I feel sorry for you that you can't appreciate that."

"Between the two of us I am not the one who should be feeling sorry for the other one."

Clara glared at him. "Oh, really? And what amazing person are you buying a book about? Who qualifies as worth your time?" Her eyes locked on the book on the top of the pile in his hands and with once glance she rolled them. "Mick Jagger? Seriously? That must be a truly fascinating read. At the beginning of every chapter you'll have the renewed adventure of not knowing if more of it will be devoted to drugs or sex."

He smirked. "I'm sure at least one of them will have equal mentions of both. Of course neither is as exciting as that time your dear friend Jane won her first game of whist."

"That's it. If you excuse me I'm going to find someone who works here to help me get my books."

Without another word she brushed past him. Her anger was at such a temperamental peak she would never be able to honestly determine how intentional it was that she knocked into him as she walked away. Clara liked to think she was never the sort to intentionally push anyone but she knew her temper too well. Almost never the sort to intentionally push anyone was closer to the mark. The indisputable facts were that the side of her body pushed against the front of his as she attempted her exit and he fell backwards. His hands flew out to grab something and seconds after he hit the floor half the books on the table came tumbling down. It was an avalanche of non-fiction best sellers and loud enough to bring two customers and three store employees to their side. 

The fall knocked off his sunglasses and Clara was met with a furious stare from a set of piercing blue eyes. In another, calmer, gentler world she would have been mesmerized by their color and taken in by his strong facial features. The small part of her brain not on fire with anger noted how graceful he looked for someone sprawled on the floor with books all around him. They stayed locked in a game of angry stares until one of the employees spoke up.

"Sir, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Can you stand? Did you hit your head?"

He slowly stood and brushed off the front of his suit jacket and pants. 

"I think I'll survive."

The employee looked deeply concerned as moved his head to look between them. 

"Did this young woman do this to you?"

Before her nemesis could answer Clara spoke up.

"It was an accident. I just wanted a book I couldn't reach. You know you should really think about the height of these shelves compared to the height of the average person. Seems a little silly to have all these books in places people can't reach them."

"Ma'am, I need you to lower your voice and also let this gentleman answer my question. Sir, did she push you?"

"It was just a disagreement. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"OF COURSE I DIDN'T MEAN IT. I just didn't feel like spending one more second around someone who enjoys insulting beloved literary figures."

"Oh but making snap judgments on important musicians is perfectly acceptable? I thought you book nerds were happy when people read anything longer than a blog post these days."

"'Dear Diary, Today I slept with three groupies before breakfast, which is what I call the meal I have at 4pm, and now I'm off to snort a few lines of coke for lunch' doesn't count as better than a blog post to me."

"Once again I'm sorry that my reading standards don't meet those of a complete stranger with shit taste in authors."

Clara took a deep breath and got ready to respond very loudly and at length when the employee stepped between them. 

"You both need to leave. Immediately. And don't come back."

They shouted their displeasure at the same time and attempted to bargain their way into staying or at least being able to make a purchase. But their speeches were yelled over the other's and the jumbled hurricane of words landed them out on the street with no books and no hope of setting foot back in the door anytime soon. The one silver lining was that there was another book shop directly across the street and at the first break in traffic Clara dashed towards it. 

Within a few short minutes she was greeted by a biography section set up almost identically to the one across the street, complete with the A's being on a very tall shelf very much out of her reach.

She sighed. "There's got to be something on my shelves at home I haven't read yet."

Clara didn't hear or feel him come up behind her but suddenly a much taller figure reached above her and pulled down the full selection of Austen biographies available. Without turning around she recognized the suit jacket sleeve. He lowered the books into her hands and with no words exchanged between them he walked away. Clara spent a few minutes too confused to do anything but eventually settled against the shelf to examine the books. 

Once her book was carefully selected and paid for Clara decided to stop at the in-store coffee shop for a quick treat. She purchased an espresso and scone and as she made her way to the tables in the back she spotted him seated alone at a table for two. Clara walked over and stood in front of the empty seat.

"I was able to decide on one. Of course I had to leave the others on the table for someone else to put back."

He glanced up from his book.

"You do have a point about the shelves. Of course it's not something I ever have to think about but my eyes are fully open to the issue now."

She laughed and for the first time in the short time they'd known each other it was a real laugh, not dripping with contempt or sarcasm. 

"Anyway, I wanted to thank you and...and...I am...sorry for all of that at the other shop. I was frustrated by the time you showed up but that's not an excuse."

"I'm sorry for being so insulting about your taste in subject matter. I don't enjoy shopping, even for items I love like books, so I always get a little tense."

She smiled. "Well, alright then. Glad we were able to clear all that up. I'm going to go sit over there."

He nudged the chair in front of her with his foot.

"You could join me if you'd like."

She would later say she said yes because there were only two empty tables, one next to a trash can and the other next to the restroom, but that was only part of the truth. The rest involved how drawn she felt to him now that the anger between them was settled. It involved how she couldn't take her eyes off his long, elegant fingers and the way they wrapped around his mug or how the light bounced off his silver curls in this way that made the air around him shine. It involved those eyes of his that were stunning when burning with anger but just as breathtaking in calmer moments. 

Clara settled her items down and took a careful sip of her espresso only to quickly determine it needed a few more moments to cool off. 

"I didn't see you take anything from the biography shelves for yourself. Decided against the Mick Jagger book?"

He grinned. "Well you did spoil about eighty percent for me so I didn't think I had to read it-"

She gasped and started to apologize but he motioned for her to stop.

"That was a bad joke. They keep their musician biographies with their other music books. I did purchase it but do you want to know a secret?"

He leaned across the table to bring their heads closer and on pure instinct she did the same. It was a slightly dizzying experience to be that close to him and Clara let herself think it was for him too when he twisted his head a little to the side and coughed before turning back to almost make eye contact with her. 

"I'm a musician and I've done a lot of studio work at one of Mick's favorite studios to record at. An old friend of mine read this book and said I was mentioned a few times so out of pure vanity I purchased it to see if I could find those mentions."

"Have you?"

"Not yet."

"What sort of mentions?" Clara lowered her voice. "Anything scandalous?"

He answered first with a grin that made Clara shift a little in her chair and hope she wasn't blushing. "Not that I know of but there - I don't even know your name, I probably shouldn't go into detail on what sort of stories could involve me."

"Clara. Clara Oswald. Yours?"

"John but I'm in there was the Doctor. It's what everyone called me. Actually it's what everyone still calls me."

"I like it. So what crazy stories are in there involving you?"

The Doctor dipped his head and grinned down at the table.

"I've been informed it's a few mentions of my superior guitar playing skills, nothing more scandalous than that, at least not where I'm mentioned by name."

"Well see now I'm going to have to read it and try to figure out when you were there and just not mentioned by name."

Clara's face was arranged in its most flirtatious look and when their eyes locked she was pleasantly surprised when he kept his gaze on hers and met her smile with an equally flirty one. 

"I'm guessing if I read your Jane Austen biography I won't find any mentions of you and your sordid time traveling past? Or would that be future?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Or present? I'm never sure how that works. No, I'm sad to report I am not a time traveler and even sadder to report that I have never met Ms. Austen. I have to go on this beach holiday with my dad and stepmum even though I don't like the beach or my stepmum. I wanted a book to escape to when the conversations got too awkward and it dawned on me it would be nice to have one about her. It'll be like getting letters from a friend on their life instead of listening to Linda prattle on about her latest antiquing conquest."

The Doctor's face twisted. 

"Antiquing?"

"That isn't even the most annoying of her hobbies. Anyway, sorry for throwing all that you. Family drama isn't fun coffee date talk. I mean coffee sitting at the table talk. I mean - please tell me you know what I mean."

She could feel how red her cheeks were but they cooled at the friendly, understanding look on his face only to heat up again when he placed a hand over her's. 

"I know what you mean and it's fine. About the family drama. And the coffee...thing. Do you want to know another secret? I bought another biography about another musician, one I don't know but deeply admire. I guess he's my Jane Austen."

Clara couldn't hide the curiosity on her face but was grateful for the other emotions it was masking. "Who is it?"

He reached into the bag hung on his chair, pulled out a book, and placed it in front of her. Clara let out a delighted gasp.

"Beethoven? That's a bit of a switch from Mick."

The Doctor grinned wider and squeezed her hand before he grabbed the book and put it back in the bag and away from their beverages. 

"None of my guitar skills ever translated to being able to play the piano very well so of course my favorite musician of them all is a pianist. I buy every new book about him that comes out."

"I know the feeling. I'm a teacher and I think I enjoy teaching literature so much because if I can't talk about the great novel I still haven't written I can talk about the great novels that have been written."

They spent a few moments in silence, the air around them heavy with everything developing between them. The silence turned into several long conversations that flowed more easily the better they got to know each other. They talked about family and jobs, Clara grilled him on his favorite authors, the Doctor grilled her on her favorite musicians, and finally there was no denying that their coffee was long finished. They mumbled something about needing to go at the same time and with identical reluctance slowly stood up. 

Clara noticed the Doctor winced and grabbed his lower back.

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

"It's nothing. I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow."

Clara bit her lower lip. 

"I feel horrible. I know we've made up but I still feel like I need to make this up to you."

He looked down at her with the same sort of grin that traveled straight down her body earlier. "You could help me to this lovely wine bar I know around the corner and help me drink a glass or two. But only if really feel like you need to make this up to me."

Clara couldn't keep the joy at the idea of spending more time with him off her face. "I insist."

They exited the shop with their arms linked, allegedly to help the Doctor manage his pain. As they turned to walk to the corner Clara's eyes glanced over at the shop across the street. It would be awhile before she completely got over her embarrassment over being banned from a book shop and why but just for a moment what she felt more than anything else was that tall shelves weren't really the worst thing.


End file.
